


"Remembering Altean Seas"

by MrsKohakuSato



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Gen, Multi, Other, P - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-07-29 09:36:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16261529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsKohakuSato/pseuds/MrsKohakuSato
Summary: Allura and Lotor find newfound ground, and understanding, not through tedious diplomatic functions, nor through harsh words on the battlefield, but strangely enough on the peaceful shores of an island that's distinctly reminsiciant of Altea.





	1. What are you doing here!?

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, a Au where Lotor is introduced earlier, season one early, once Zarkon realizes he needs to try other tactics, so he summons Lotor from his exiled to take care of the voltron nuisances, and perhaps regain his honor by delivering the Lions to him. However, as Lotor returns, he has agendas of his own that is known neither to his father, nor the paladins. And unlucky, for the paladins, Lotor proves to be a wild card, and entirely difficult for, along with his generals, which includes Throk and Cossack. 
> 
> Edit:Lance, Pidge, and Hunk are all 18 here.
> 
>  
> 
> So, Keith is still the red paladin, but is thorn between his duties as blade and paladin. He does find Krolia. 
> 
> Shiro is still the black Paladin despite his disappearance.
> 
> Narti isn't used by haggar, nor do Lotor's generals betray him. 
> 
> The paladins occasionally sends messages to earth to inform their families that they're okay, and visit on rare occasions.

 

_Allura is shocked when she finally comes face to face to the elusive Prince Lotor, after many battles, he is revealed, and he is not what she expects. His accented, eloquent speak, his smooth face, and long hair. He looks-he looks familiar, as if she had met him before, or that he had reminded her of something lost. Altea. He looked almost Altean. But, that could not be. IT couldn’t, could it. Her heart hammers in her chest. as he circles her, like predator looming over it’s prey. He doesn’t attack, as he strides, even the way he seems to carry himself is eerily reminiscent of Altean nobility. Though, everything in his eyes, spells out Galra, there is something there that reminds her of home, staring, intently, into those amethyst eyes._

* * *

 

Allura rolls on the ball of her heels, watching as the waves came to greet the beach's edge, crashing and rolling, crashing and rolling.There were miles and miles of ocean as far as the eye could see. The cool breeze whispers over her dark skin, and plays with wisps of her loose hair, she closed her eyes, listening closely to the bellowing of the sea, a smile graces her lips, as she turns to walk across the swath of the beach’s shore.

It was slow gait, her sunhat fluttered in the gentle wind, as she kept an eye out for seashells, something sparkly or shiny that she could bring back to her room. It was strange she thought, as her eyes roamed from the sand back to the ocean,  enraptured by the colors of orange, like a mythical fire burning the horizon, like autumn during the summer, where red and magnony dance upon her dark skin. It was beautiful, breathtaking, she would have to personally thank Thace for telling her about this place, the planet Agata. One of the fewer planets that had not been touched, or scathed by Zarkon’s forces.

Though, she felt a smidge of guilt lazing around on a closed off seaport, while the rest of the galaxy was heaved turmoil. Coran reassured her that they all needed a reprieve, they can’t in his own words  fight, if their not in tip-top shape. A well-needed rest is in order. He was right of course, they all needed to find their minds in all this chaos, still it didn’t cure, not matter how logical, the small seed of guilt in her belly.

She sighs, swaying her sandals back and forth with the rhythm of the ocean’s waves, back and forth, crashing, rolling, crashing, rolling. As she inhales, she takes in the fresh, crisp, salty aroma of the ocean's scent. Her skin crawled with goosebumps as the twin suns of The planet Agata warmed her naked shoulders. She hummed, letting her eyes fall, as she hummed a tune, to a song long forgotten, a ancient Altean lullaby that her father use to sing to her during stormy nights. However, sadly, she frowns, she had long to forgotten the words, only the tune, the rhythm and the beat the only things that she found that she could recall, even the name of it is lost to her. She continues harmonizing, the roar of the waves a backdrop, a orchestra of sorts. As, she continued to walk, it occurred to her why the song had even came to the forefront of her mind, the beach, it reminded her of Altea. Of the times her parent’s during hot summers would take her out to one of the many beaches Altea had to offer.

_“If you listen closely, you can hear the ocean whisper in your ear” eagerly, Allura pressed it to there, listening closely-_

_“I hear it, father! I hear it-but, I do not understand what it is saying to me?” she holds it up to him, he smiles down at her._

_“That’s the mystery isn’t it.”_

_“Huh?” she tilts her head._

_“You mustn’t listen with your ears, dear daughter, you must use heart”_

_She wrinkled her nose “How do I listen with my heart?” she inquires sceptically. Far too skeptically for a 6 year old. Her father bellows, chuckling hearedily. It eased the bruises under his eyes, as he shook with mirth._

Allura’s thoughts had quietly ran away with themselves that she hadn't paid much attention to her surroundings, her eyes closed, and water rushing in her ear, that her heart nearly jumped right out her throat, as she collided into something massive, and hard. Something akin to a statue, a statue made of marble, or stone. Her sunhat fluttered to the floor, as her bottom slammed into the sand, hitting her tail bone in the worse possible ways. She let out a low groan, as wet sand gathered onto her white, strapless sundress.  

“Oh-” something spicy caught her nose-it was a mixture of heavy musk and oak.

“Well, hello, Princess Allura” an all too familiar accented voice reached her ears causing her head to crank up to be greeted by dark, lilac eyes. She sat there, lamely, wide eyed, as if she hadn’t believe what was happening before her.

“Prince Lotor!” She gaped.

He peered down at her quizzically, as if he also didn’t actually believe she were there.

“Ah, so she does speak indeed” her cheeks flash red, she snatches herself up, rising to her feet, taking a hail of sand with her in her haste to look dignified.

“What are you doing here?” She squeaked. She didn’t remember him being-being so large, as she still had to keep her head tilted back in order to look him in the eyes. Though, perhaps it probably had to do with the fact that they didn’t fight flesh to flesh much. Combat was usually by air, so it wasn't all to far-fetched that she would forget how big he was. Which was strange seeing that he was considered somewhat small for Galra size, well that wasn’t right his right-hand woman was smaller than him, and Keith wasn’t exactly the pinnacle of height, when you compare him to the rest of the Marmora.

He crosses his arms, which draws her attention to his board chest. His board bare chest.

“Would you believe me if I said I was simply sightseeing” he drawls, his surprise gone in a instant as it returned to a his usual cool facade, he tilts his head to regard her small form.

His lips were moving, but she wasn’t listening at this point, he wasn’t wearing any of his amor. In fact, she had never see him out his usual dark amory. She was staring, which she shouldn’t be, but she hadn’t realized how chiseled his chest, and abdominal muscles were. She swallows thickly, but there was persistent lump in her throat she hadn’t noticed, and wondered briefly how it got there. The only thing that was covering his torso was a long dark robe made up of something she could only guess was silk, judging by the thinness of it. The sleeves came up only to his elbows, and fanned out, and much like it, his pants were loose and flowing, and only held up by a tightly wrapped sash around his waist, as they reached down to his ankles. He didn’t wear any sandals, but some rather expensive looking loafers. All of which were obsidian, and embroidered in intricate patterns of gold. His hair was tidy up into sections of braids that unfurled out into a long-ponytail that sat low upon his head, his stubborn strand of hair that was always draped over his eyes was also pulled back. Which she thought made him look weird.

“Princess?”

He caught her staring. She felt like a pervert, enemy or not. She shook her head, clearing her throat,however the stubborn lump refused to so much as to budge.

“I absolutely refuse to believe you came here to sight-” started off sarcastically, until realization hit her, if Lotor is here-then- fear sunk in-

“Please don’t tell me the empire hasn't set their sights on Agata"

“Hm, oh no. Princess, My father isn’t much interested in tourist attractions. This place certainly doesn’t suit his fancy.” his eyes left hers, instead to roam around, eyeing the shore with distant eyes. Allura, cautiously took a step back. Lotor was a wild card, she needed to be wear of. Her and her paladins have been privy to his tricks more times than they like to count.

“Then-then what are you doing here, then if not for that purpose?” his eyes snapped to hers with wicked speed, it took everything in her not to flinch, she swallows again. His lips, twitched. She never noticed how soft they looked in that moment-what. Ugh. What was she thinking?

“Technically, speaking Princess I conquered this planet”

Her face paled, the enthrallment that she had felt had all, but faded away, sinking into the ocean much like the twin suns of this gorgeous planet.

“But, you said-” he stutters.

“I rule my own planets, father doesn’t much care to bother with any of them, as long as I produce the quintessence that he desires”

“Then your mining this planet?”

“No, Agata fortunately doesn’t nor has a suitable amount of quintessence to be bothered mining.”

“Then why conquer it” he paused and looked as if he were about to answer her question until he stopped. She could see the wheels turning in that unfathomable head of his.

“How about dinner” Allura felt the air being whipped out of her. Like being whiplashed. She had been through it enough times to know.

She blinked, lips parted.

“What” was all that came out, to surprised by his offer to conjure up anything else.

“Dinner. I would gladly explain my intentions over dinner, if you would like, Princess”

“Were enemies” her brows narrowed.

“Your on my planet. It would be foolish of you to start an all out brawl in the mist of enemy territory. Besides, I’m as you would say taking time off, we can simply call it a temporary truce. Diplomacy if you may”

Her lips shut with a click of teeth. She really didn’t want to admit it, but he was right. She was on his territory with no lions, castle or paladins. It would be foolish of her to do so. She swallowed a insufferable sigh, glowering at the smug smirk that showed off a strip of his canines, that flashed a sparkling white in the sun’s light.

“Fine” she grumbled crossing her arms. “But, your paying” she might as well get a free meal out of this, if would mean being forced to endure his company.

“I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I didn’t” his smirk widen. Allura felt like maybe she was getting into more trouble than it was worth.

The place was bustling. It was odd, seeing that every planet they had come across was usually enslaved or  scorched into ruins, or the people loved in fear of Galra attack. Here, it was like the war didn't exist, like they were transported into another world. The people were happy, jubilant as they went about they're day. There shops as far as the eye could see, housing any kind of trinket you can think of. 

* * *

 

“Haven't you bought enough stuff, Lance”

“Hey, I have huge family, I wanna make sure I got everyone something cool.”

“Well, good luck carrying all that stuff by yourself”

“it's not like i was going to ask you” Lance mumbled.

“Knock it off, children” Shiro sighs “can't you two get along for one moment”

“no.” Shiro rolled his eyes, and decided best that it wasn't worth getting involved in one-sided grudge matches. Keith moved on ahead, as he maneuvered through the crowd. Lance stirred off into another direction, a shack stocked with odd looking sculptures caught his eye.

Keith stopped by a stand selling jewelry. The closer Shiro got, he saw it was Jewelry made out various seashells. Keith eyed them curiously.

“Never took you for the type”

“Huh. No.” he shakes his head “I'm just looking.” he pauses “do you think Krolia might like one”

“Oh.” Shiro got it. He smiled “I'm not sure, I don't know her well enough to know what she likes”

Keith sighs, he rubs his wrist down his face, ruffling his ponytail, causing a few strands stick to his face from the sweat gliding down his temple.

“Yeah, well I don't know either. I mean, she's my mom, Shiro, and I know next to nothing about her.” he huffs frustrated. The younger man felt out of place. He's been feeling out place here since they've landed on Agata. He wasn't much in the mood for relaxation, surfing tourist attractions or playing volleyball on the beach. It was a nice looking planet for sure, but there were much more pressing problems on the horizon, namely Lotor and his minions. They should be searching for him, not having some hawaiian vacation. They were up to no good. He could sense it, but like the enigma he is, Lotor was impossible to find. None of their searching brought them any closer, it was like he was a thousand steps ahead of them, constantly.

“Acxa! Acxa! Looky here!” Keith's eyes snapped towards the sound of that irritating voice, and sure enough it was one of the female Galra that traps around with Lotor. Dressed in a rather provocative outfit. She was wearing thigh high boots and dressed only in a tight body suit, that looked more like lingerie than actual clothing.

“It's the one with the weird hair, and the hairless one” Shiro balked slightly, as he had no idea which of them Ezor was referring to. However, that was the least of his issues, as he heard a growl escape Keith's lips.

Acxa appeared out from behind the other woman looking unimpressed. She also was void of her armour, instead opting for something Similar to her companion, only far more modest, with her boots coming up past her knees.

Shiro placed his arm out Keith to keep him from doing something reckless. The native people hardly paid them mind, as they coiled around them, and bounded on they're on way.

Acxa narrowed her eyes. Her ebony lips set.

“What are you doing here?” she sneers.

“We can say the same for you” Shiro replies sternly.

“If your here, then Lotor's here, too!”

“What does it matter you”

“He's public enemy number one.”

“He's here. Though, I'd advise you not to attempt anything”

“Is that threat or something”

“No, Little Blade. This is Lotor's planet” she tilts her head lazily to the side, her bangs swaying to cover one eye, as she watches them apathetically.

“What!?”

Acxa to them apparently lost interest in the subject at hand, turning on her heel to walk away.

“Hey!” Keith snarled “ where do you think your going?!”

“Keith” Shiro still kept his hand out, the latter's chest bumped against it, as he tried to move forward.

“Elsewhere.” She responded coldly before disappearing into the crowd.

“Well, bye bye for now!” Ezor shrieked cheerfully as she chases after the other woman.

“Shiro, we need to find the others.”

“Keith, you need to calm down”

“If Lotor's here, then we finally have our chance”

“And attack him on his own planet.”

“There's only two of his generals here”

“That we know about. We in the enemy's den, I don't think it would be very wise to start a fight on his turf.”

Keith huffed, “ then what do we do. We can't just let him get away, if we can capture Zarkon's son, we might finally get somewhere.”

Shiro sighs, running a hand through his hair.

“I think first we need tell the others and go from there.”

* * *

 

Pidge hadn't a clue how she got here. One minute she was with Hunk and Coran, checking out each and every Food stand, and here she was standing in the middle of a ,well a tiki bar, with a lack for a better word.

  Now, that she thought about this place kind of reminded her of the Hawaiian Islands that her family had visited that one time. She smiled to herself, it had been so long ago, back when she and Matt were barely of toddlerhood. She distinctly, yet vaguely remembered Matt  being attacked by one of the local crabs, snatched his fingers in one its nasty little pinchers, he’d been terrified of them for most of his childhood since.

It’s hard to believe they went from that to being tossed out light-years into the far reaches of space fighting a ancient intergalactic alien war. Well, at least she never run out things to tell for her “how did you spend your summer” essay, if she ever went back to school.

She frowned, biting her lip as she wandered further into Tiki bar, enjoying the cool air blowing on her heated flesh. When she thought about it. If they did win this war….what happens next. Would the universe still need voltron? If not, what then? would she go back to earth? Stay in space? If she did that, what would she do? Help Allura rebuild everything. Pidge didn’t think she was much suited towards politics, or privy to them, they were far to complicated, convoluted. People saying one thing, then doing something entirely other than that. Nah, she  enjoy the company of her mathematical algorithms, and not being under the constant scrutiny of some stuffy nobles-

“How's it going little lady” She feels a massive hand collide with her back, she nearly toppled over, and hanks to Allura’s barbaric training Pidge was able to catch herself before her nose crashed into the floor.  

“Ack!” she snapped her head around so fast her ponytail hit her in the face with a loud smack, strands of hair falling into her mouth. Ugh, she couldn’t think of a sensation that was worse than wet socks, or having chip bits stuck in your covers.

“Ick!” she spits out the honey strands “You!ugh, what are you doing here!”

“Hey, now I know your excited to see me, but settle down a bit there, honey, there's enough Cossack for everybody” he threw out his huge arms.  

“As if!” she finally removed the hair, tossing her tail over her shoulder far away from her lips, she had to step back and crank her head back in order to leer into pools of endless amber. Her brows furrowed, gaze narrowed.

“Miss me, baby” He grins smugly.

“I'm not your baby, creep” she spat, irritated.

“So” he pays her protest no mind “honey, where's your boy toys”

“Boy toys?”

“The loud mouth, and the one with the iron stomach”

Pidge wrinkled her nose “They're not my boy toys”

“Oh-ho” he didn't seem convinced, but didn't comment on it further, however it made her wonder where he even got the idea that they were in the first place.

“what?” she growled, annoyed.

“nothing” he chuckles, darkly, taking his time to bend over to reach her height, their eyes leveled. Pidge peers at him sourly, while his smug grin only grows wider in proportions , to the point one would consider it maniacal.

“So, sweetheart what brings you to this side of galaxy”

“I could be asking you the same question” he barks out a laugh, crossing his arms, leaning back.

“Oh, don’t worry, darlin, I ain’t here on business rather pleasure.”

“So, off duty than, funny Lotor doesn’t seem like the type to give out vacations.”

“Ah, lotor ain’t as bad as you paladins make him out to be, sure he’s a bit uptight, but he’s alright, definitely, a step up from working under Sendak”

“I find that hard to believe she mutters, sighing. “Wait you worked for Sendak?”

He shrugs “Yeah, I was his lieutenant before Haxus too my place, eeh, but that was a long time ago, not exactly a time in my life I don't like rememberin” he trails off, with Pidge eyeing him curiously. There was somewhat of awkward silence, as Pidge didn’t know where to look or do. She wiggled her toes that were stuck with sand, she noticed that one of the straps of her flip flops was loose again. Ugh. She’s never buying dollar-store flip-flops again, these things have been falling apart since she got here. She bent down, attempting to fix the stubborn strap, debating whether not she should just go barefoot. Hopefully, there wouldn’t be some kind of space-tapeworms that might take a a open opportunity to burrow themselves in heels of feet.

“Wanna drink, my treat”  she threw her head up in surprised her eyes wide. She blinks wondering if it was some sort of odd Galran joke. But, he looks to her with a strange sincerity in his yellow eyes.

“huh “ Pidge glances at him skeptically “is this some badly thought out attempt at poisoning me”

“nah,  sweetheart, like I said i'm off duty, and i'm goin to enjoy every moment of it before Emperor Zarkon hauls us out again”

“Well” Pidge shrugged, looking back down at the sandy covered matts of the Tiki Hut, what's the worst that could happen.

“I guess” weren’t there rules against fraternizing with the enemy. Keith would probably have an aneurysm. Well, with way he's been acting that wouldn't be all that surprising. He really needs to check his blood pressure.

* * *

* * *

 


	2. "Look who came to dinner"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lotor and Allura have dinner together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry guys, for the lack of updates. My smart self spilled coffee on my laptop, so I'm using my phone to write which is super tedious, horrible way to write constantly. I have know idea when I'll be able to get it fixed or I have to buy a new one.

This wasn’t what she was expecting, or maybe she wasn’t expecting anything at all. A fancy restaurant perhaps, with pristine table tops, dangling chandeliers made up of precious gemstones. That’s what she thinks she was expecting, not this. Lotor had lead them to a odd looking cabin building that was somewhat high above sea level, but it did overlook the shore she was previously daydreaming on. It wasn’t as bustling as the streets were, but it was full of paterons, both of the native people of Agata and….Galra. She tilts her head, noting that they were void of amor, or anything that suggested that they were part of  Zarkon’s armies. They were all dressed in civilian clothing, though it differed greatly from the attire the natives wore.

The inside is cool, the building lit dimly by paper cylinder like lanterns that decorate the corners of the establishment. The atmosphere is warm, comforting, a strong feeling of intimacy that reminds her of something homey. She feels the apprehension that had weighed on her shoulders dissipate a little.

“Evening, Prince!”

“Evening, sir!”

“Greetings, Prince Lotor!”

Allura was daunted by the friendly greetings made towards the man’s way. Watching him simply respond with an inclination of his head, and a small grin.

“This way, Princess” she nods, following, as he leads them to the back of the building that ends up with them being in a private room of sorts, closed off from the rest of the customers by dangling crystal beads colored shades greens. What awaits them is a small, square, table fit for two. Before, she could even think to pull out her seat Lotor had already yanked the chair out, with a lofty bow, she stops, eyes him warily, then skeptically, she looks away suddenly shy before smoothing out her dress to sit. He pushes her in, and takes his seat across from her.

“So” she smooths out her dress again, turning towards the open window, the only window, that has a magnificent view of the coast, the waves crashing, and rolling, crashing, and rolling. It was hypnotizing, alluring, and otherworldly. It served to remind her of the old days, in fact it gave her the urge to want to stand in the waves, and have them fall over her. Shrieking and giggling as the they tossed her about, with her Father watching from the beach's edge, clothed only in his shorts.

“So” he quirked a brow, at her quietness “are you enjoying your stay, Princess?”

She doesn’t hear him over the loudness of her own thoughts until he calls her name again-

“Princess?” she jerks her head around, her cheeks heated red, she swipes a strand of loose hair behind her ear, biting her lip.

“O-oh!” she stutters before drawing a fist to her lips feigning a cough “Forgive me. Lost in thought there for a moment”

“Ah, daydreaming are we” he leans back in his chair, his long arms laze over the handles of the wickered chair. Regarding her coyly, she scowls in return, placing her hands back into her lap.

“No! I-I was just simply lost in thought”

“And, so my dear princess, what are we thinking about?”

“T-here are Galra here-and yet, they are not dressed in armour?”

“Because they are not soldiers”

“Their not” her expression softens to a touch of curiosity.

“No, they’re civilians displaced by my father’s war”

“Civilians?” during this whole fight, she couldn’t honestly recall coming close to Galra civilians-then she supposed she never thought-or the thought never occurred to her that there were any such. A uncomfortable pang settles in her stomach causing her to inwardly grimace.

“Yes-well-technically speaking they are refugees, people that haven’t been in good graces with my father, or escaped from the Capital’s slums, or soldiers that have retired early”

“oh.” she says quietly.

“Some criminals”

“Criminals? However did they escape”

“I helped them in a way”

“Why-why would you free criminals”

“You wish to know of their crimes then”

Allura isn’t sure if that was rhetorical question, but Lotor doesn’t give her the chance to contemplate, as he continues on without a verbal answer from her, his gaze shifted back to the ocean, the tide now rising.

“Some were left to rot in prison for aiding rebel causes. Some were caught in the act of inciting rebellion, rioting. Others for the simple act of criticizing Zarkon, some for standing up to his tyranny. I  met a man one time who was whipped for slipping a piece of bread to a slave, another tortured for showing compassion to an enemy. A woman, forced to leave her child in fear that her crime of refusing to aid in the colonization of innocent people would lead to retribution of her family. A boy, not yet a man threaten for wanting a better life outside the nightmare that is the Capital's 9 district, the worse that the slums has to offer. Other’s among these so called criminals were merely half-breeds, were given life enslavement for the audacity of being born of mixed blood, couples forced to live on the run for the simple sin of loving each other, despite being from vastly different races-and many more-I could go on-but-” he trails of, whether it was done on purpose or not, she wasn’t sure, and wasn’t about to call him out on it seeing that her thoughts were now reeling with the new information basically slapped right in front of her. That panging in her belly grew from being discomforting to downright painful, a sickseasness of guilt nipping at her

Well, in any case,Princess how are you enjoying your stay ”

She starts,feeling whiplashed by the abrupt change in topic, but ultimately came to lament on how odd this is. Usually when Lotor was across from her they were in the pits of their ships, doing everything in their power to out maneuver and outflank the other. This was something entirely new. There is no war orchestrated around them, no fire, no shouts, no..nothing. Right, now they were just two people, like anybody else simply having dinner. She had forgone her crown, preferring to keep her wavy curls tied in a braid down her back. She left her bangs, though they occasional got in her eyes, she blew out a wisp of air to push them back to the other side. Speaking of her crown, when they had met, she notice the distinct lack of one. Zarkon didn’t wear one, all though it could be debated that his helmet served as any.

“Why do you not wear a crown?” she felt silly, it’s such a silly, inconsequential question. But, she felt it needed to be answered. Or a distraction from the inner turmoil brewing within her head.

Lotor blinks at her, obviously it was not something that he was expecting for her to ask.

“I-” he stops “I simply never thought to wear one”

“Would you wear one, now”

“No. I see no need for one. My people know who I am, crown or not”

Allura hums. _Everyone knows who I am._

Lotor was a paradox wrapped tight in anomaly. When she had first come to learn that Zarkon had a son, it was a shock to her, if for all her memory she couldn't recall Honerva and Zarkon having a child. Her theory was that he was born after the fall of Altea. And yet, it was common knowledge that the Prince was in exile before Zarkom summoned him to deal with Voltron.

Foolishly they had come to believe him like his father, one tracked, and utterly focused. And much to everyone's luck or chargin depending on how you look at it it appeared that Lotor had little interest in Voltron or them.

The first battle did not go in their favor. They lost terribly unexismated his skill and calibur, and the ability of his time, it wasn't a face to face battle, but between Voltron, her and their Sincline ships that they had come to learn that they were sculpted out of the trans reality core, it wasn't a competition.

It dawned on Allura that they had gotten arrogant, relied to heavily on Voltron to pull them through the every battle. They had been winning fight, after fight, it was a hard, painful lesson, but one not in vain, through it they practiced harder. But, that wasn't the humiliating defeat, the one on the within the system of Katarisis, a series of small planets able to avoid the war, yet the leaders of the planet knew that they couldn't escape forever, but hadn't a clue what side to join, Allura had took it upon herself make it a diplomatic mission only for Lotor to have the same idea. A sourness curls, twisting along with her guilt in her stomach. The taste of defeat was still fresh, despite it being some time ago, But she wouldn't let it bitter her mood-but, it had been the the first time she had come face to face to elusive prince.

Her eyes scan over him-again reminded of something Altean, that it causes her to peer elsewhere, she squeezes her thighs together, she breathes in.

She then turns back her gaze steady and stern.

“And you are?” she asks, desperately wanting to know the answer to that dearly. For, no one really, truly knows who Prince Lotor is.

“I am…” his ear twitches “why do you wish to know that?”

“Because I know next to nothing about you Prince Lotor of the Galra Empire”

“And what, what you would gain from knowing anything about me, Princess” Allura narrowed her gaze slightly, he was playing another one of his mind games. Asking a question with a question in the hopes of throwing her off his trail-she huffed internally frustrated with his inane games, and twist and turns, and odd riddles. She simply wanted answers-and so her patience somewhat drew thin-

“Whose your mother?” She blurts carelessly, her lips moving faster than what her brain could filter.

He looks at her pointedly, a brow arched, there was no anger, or surprise, or suspicion, just a plane of blankness that started to unnerve her.

“Why do you wish to know that?” his voice goes low, and it sends chills down her spine.

“Well” she swallows “you look-well -you’re mixed right? It’s just that you lack Galra features, you look as though your…. Altean” she whispers the last part, was there a flicker of hope lighting her heart.

“ And If that were the case, Princess then would you treat me differently”

“I-” would that even matter? Lotor would still be the enemy, prince and heir to a empire born and bathed in tyranny.

“Or would I still be tainted in your eyes” he voice goes lower “Princess, or would you see me less Galra, and more like you. Would you see me, as a friend, someone worth pulling to your side because I am Altean enough to be worthy of your graces, but not Galra enough to treat me with outright scorn. If that were the case than I do not want it, and you can keep sentimentalities”

“Then...then your not Altean” she couldn't keep the quiver out her voice. It was foolish to ask again, she knew, but she was stubborn, she simply wanted to know. It was too good to be true. And what odd sort of luck to find another of her kind, a hair breadth away from her this entire time.

“You can believe whatever you wish to, Princess. I care not for your preconceptions of my race” his tone was cold in that moment which only further the anger boiling inside her, the anger set against herself. She should be trying to help all people, and that should, needed to be extended to galra too. Keith comes to mind in that moment, her ears withering, with her regal posture slumping, shame filled her belly, as her eyes lowered at the cool lividity that echoed off his persons. He seemed hostile for a moment, a flicker of feral anger before it cooled, as his smooth face settle back into his usual facade.

“In any case, Princess, we did not come here to-”

“Prince Lotor, Prince Lotor!” a young girl all but stumbles in, a hail her bright robes of green and lime billowing behind her, and long flows of ebony hair She’s just a child, probably ten years of age. She beams up at the adults, a pad and pen in hand, as she poises herself to take their orders. She missing a few teeth Allura notices, and much like Lotor she has fangs, and claws, and up top her head are small protruding horns, her eyes dark cobalt behind amber sclera, which is highlighted by her tan skin.

“Oha.” he acknowledges, a warmth comes to eclipse his hard features “it's certainly been awhile, my and you've grown since the last time I laid eyes on you”

“Ah-huh!” The girl nods enthusiastically “and my horns got bigger to. See” she moves  some of her hair out the way to show them off proudly.

“And it also seems in my absence you’ve been promoted also”

“Yep” the girl beams wider, bouncing on her sandaled heels “I finally got my dad to let me work inside now. Isn’t it cool!”

Lotor chuckles, smiling tenderly at the small child “It certainly is, and before I know it, you’ll be running this magincient restaurant in due time”

“Oh” the child suddenly, falls sullen “I don’t know about that. I don't think I’d be any good at it. I mean I’m practicing, dad, teaches me stuff all the time, but-but what if I mess up, and stuff” she mumbles, disheartened.

“You shouldn’t fear failure, Oha”

“But, failing is bad isn’t” she mutters.

“Depends, however, you shouldn’t let it hinder your path, and even if you do, it is not the end all be all, from the ashes you can recreate something new, or you can learn from it, however that choice is yours to make, Oha”

Allura could finally understand why Lotor had managed to win over some of the coalition planets, well stole is the word she liked to use, but again she wasn’t here to start fights. Hopefully. In fact, she felt somewhat jealous of Lotor’s ability to orate, if only she had half the skill he did perhaps, she could convince more allies to join their sides, seeing as their Voltron shows were either hit or miss most of the time.

The child stared a bit “O-okay, I won’t give up then”

Lotor only smiles, patting the small child on the head, her previous jubilance returning tenfold.

“I believe you will accomplish great things”

“Thank you! Some, um-right- here’s your menus” the girl hands Lotor one, before reaching over to with a twinkle in her eye-

“OH! hi!” it seemed the child only now noticed her.

“Hello, there” Allura smiles down at the little girl.

“Are you Prince Lotor’s wife! Your like really super pretty! Do have any babies yet” Ah, the innocence of childhood. Allura balked, her brown skin turning a dangerous shade of pale, as her eyes blew wide. Lotor choked, his chest jumped as he stared at the child in open horror.

“Oha.” he said calmly.

“She’s your wife, right, you talked about her a lot, the last time you were here. Ya, he said that you were really beautiful, and really strong and that he liked fighting you and stuff, but I don’t know what means-and”

“Oha.” Lotor, is if Allura didn’t know any better looking quite flushed. But, that's besides the point. Lotor had talked about her? He thought she was beautiful, and enjoyed their battles together? Lighting magma shimmered underneath her pale skin.

“Yes!” she chirped.

“I like to order our drinks, if you may” he smiled, strained.

“Oh, right. what would guys like?”

“I’ll have the g’tsa, but please tell your father to hold the critus.”

“Okay! and you Prince Lotor’s wife?” Allura again feels herself sinking. But, she opens the menu, having no idea on whether or not she should comment on that.

“Um-I’m not exactly sure-what do you have” she flips to see what choice of drinks they offer. Most of them alcoholic in nature it seems. She wrinkled her nose, she wasn’t a fan of hard liquor. But it would also be unwise to get intoxicated while in Lotor's company. She skimmed until she came across a hearty looking lemonade that made her mouth water.

“I’ll have the lemonade, please”

“Got it. It shouldn’t take too long” and with that the little girl, named Oha bound away with a skip in her step, leaving behind two flustered royals.

“She’s cute.” Allura offers offhandedly. she really can’t stay mad at such small thing, not that she was. Now, she understood how her father felt when she use to blurt out rather unkind things to other diginities that came to visit Altea. _I suppose they call this karma_.

“She is quite cheekily, isn’t she.” he can’t help, but chuckle.Still there’s a stubborn color of dark lavender on his chiseled cheeks.  

A pause. He thought she was beautiful.

“So”

“So”

They both blink.

“So, about our truce” she asked, uncomfortably.

“you are a guest here, along with your paladin’s forever how long you chose to stay” at least she wasn’t the only one wanting to ignore that dutiful moment.

“A guest?” She quirks a brow.

“Like I said this a temporary truce. Besides I have nothing to gain from inciting a fight with you, Princess.”

“I’m the enemy y’know”she deadpanned.

“Your my father’s enemy, not mine”

“Is that an attempt at dry humor”

“I have, at least no personal qualms with you. However, you and your band of earthlings certainly have a knack for getting in my way”

“But, you have carried out Zarkon’s orders before”

“I haven’t much choice in the matter, I cannot continue to do as I choose, if I am not somewhat in his good graces. Or the Witch’s” he sneers.

Allura is a bit taken back at the callused way he spoke of his father. Or the way he mentioned Haggar like she was a bitter taste on his tongue. She had assumed that, they at least had a one-track goal-Allura sighs, why can’t anything ever be easy. She turns her attention back to her menu, finding her way to the meals section, she hadn’t a clue how to read or speak the language of Agata, but thankfully there were pictures to guide her. As they say a picture is worth a thousand words.

A quietness rolls around them like a light breeze, Lotor had taken to reading his menu as well, his eyes lazy, as they searched for whatever suited his fancy, embarrassingly enough it was the growl of her stomach that brought the silence to a abrupt falter. Her cheeks heated up immediately, like lava underneath her skin, she coughs into her hand, as his dark lilac eyes dart up to her, wide then amusement colored his smooth face. He grinned like that cheshire cat thing she recalled seeing in the Earth book Alice in Wonderland. His fangs in full view, perturbed she looks to him, lips pursed. Her brows furrowed.

“Is something funny?”

“Nothing" he draws out, peering back to his menu.

“ Tell me, Princess what is it that might slate your platte for this evening”

“The T-tst'at Salad looks nice” she hoped she was pronouncing the word right. Lotor didn’t correct her so maybe she did, or perhaps he didn’t care enough to correct her mispronunciation.

“I must warn you it has quite the kick to it”

Allura shrugged “Anything that isn’t Food goo is definitely a upgrade, spicy or not” naturally, the princess wasn’t a fan of super hot foods, but it had been such a long time since she had a actual cooked meal with actual ingredients, and spices. After, having a taste of Hunk’s dishes, the green, gooey processed protein paled in comparison as, it jiggled on her plate.

It goes quiet again, a jingling noise rhymes in her ear. Curious her eyes search for the sound, they land upon a wooden wind chime perched in the corner of their open window-it jingles again, the cylinders clanking against each other in their own little tune. There were symbols etched in them intricate swirls of gold against smooth mahogany. She contemplated what they meant-her ear twitches, catching the folding, crinkling of paper.

Lotor had folded his menu, placing it to the side, as he turned to gaze out the open window, the wind quiet and gentle plays with the loose ends of his ponytail.

He’s handsome. It was traitorous thing to think. However, hadn't he thought that she was beautiful, so fifty-fifty she supposed. But, it was true. Down to his narrow aristocratic nose, to his high cheek bones, to the ivory-periwinkle of his long hair. She would have to blind, not to find him attractive, But, there was something about him, as he focused on the sunset, as red, like hot magma danced up his lavender skin. It made him look as though he were carved out of stone, or marble or some other precious stone. There was something about his features that reminded her of Altea. His face, his eyes, were unlike many Galra that she had met, everything, something called out Altean, screamed it. She knew the prince was mixed, everyone did,  mixed with what was again anyone’s guess. He wouldn't speak of his other half. For someone so prominent in this intergalactic war, and being a prince and heir to the galra throne he was anomaly wrapped tight in paradox. An unsolvable rubik's cube that kept changing with each turn.

But, her thoughts wandered perhaps she was wrong. Maybe, he wasn't Altean. Or maybe she was just longing for Altea. Mourning, just wanting to be close to a home forever lost to the cosmos, ashes to the far, unforgiving reaches of space. She clung desperately to what little Altean she did have. But, her mind traveled to their previous conversation, and remembered his anger. Would she have treated him differently, had she known truly that he were Altean? She asked herself again, and again she couldn’t find a answer. Lotor was still the enemy, the son of Zarkon, and present heir to the Galra throne, she repeated to herself-But, would she have tried earnestly to pull him to her side, if that case were true? The tension she held had melted into uncertainty. Regarding the fellow royal before her with inquisitive glances, trying not be caught rudely staring.

“Prince Lotor!” a man, a Galra man came running in, along with a woman. They both looked quite disheveled, and flustered, frantic. The woman had dark, long hair, flowing down her back, like the little girl wore robes of dark and lime greens with specks of yellow. Her skin was tan, but her eyes dark like her tresses, she also had horns, yet they were curved and larger.

“Darkor. Ma'o.”

“Your highness.” they both bowed.

“Sir, please forgive our daughter.”

Oh. Daughter? Allura eyes the odd couple curiously.

“Please, there's no need for formalities or apologies.”

“She told us what she said. We are dearly, dearly sorry for that” Lotor only laughs lightly.

“Truly it is fine”

“Yes, but-”

“Trust me I am not offended in the lest”

“But, we at least owe an apology to your guest”

They finally turn to her, bowing again “ Please, forgive our daughter, Princess Allura, she didn't mean anything by it”

“Oh nono, please don't apologize, its-it's quite alright, there's no need, truly.” she hoped her smile was authentic enough to soothe their worries. She wasn't mad by the innocent inquiries of a little girl, embarrassed maybe, but she found herself more frazzled by her insinuations than anything, again making her wonder how she came to such a conclusion. Lotor seemingly talked about her out of his own free will. Did he tell her that himself or did the girl simply overhead a conversation or did she misinterpreted something.

The couple looked up, concerned but, as they took note of her sincere smile, they finally breathed a sigh of relief. They both rose, the woman, Ma'o she thinks places a hand over her chest, letting the worry slip away. The man, Galra rose, standing a good two heads over her. He was covered head to toe in grease, the white apron wrapped around him smudge with herbs, and spices, and sauces. He ran a shaky hand through his large ears, and long hair.

“Princess, this is Drakor, and his wife Ma’o, they are owners of this fine establishment”

“It's a pleasure to me you” she nods. Oh, so they were married. Well, duh, Allura they did say their daughter, and were holding hands, her mind barked at her sarcastically. Oh, right she responded dumbly. She scratched her ear, jiggling her earring.

“And you as well, Princess” Drakor nods. Weird. So, the people did know her. And being on Lotor's planet, she thought hostility would be the only greetings she would get.

“It is an honor to us that you have decided to dine at our humble restaurant”

“And I am honored not to be here, but on your planet as well, the stories don't do it justice I'm afraid” she put on her diplomatic face. After all, this is a truce, time to act the part. Perhaps, maybe some good will come of it. The couple smiled so brightly, that it truly warmed her heart.

***

Ma’o took it upon herself to retrieve their drinks, she returns far more calmer.

“Here, I apologize for the wait” the glasses thudding against the wooden table, the ice rattles against the glasses at the action.

“Now, If I may, would you like to place your orders”

“Um-I'll have the Ts'ta salad.”

“And I'll have the ho’ata soup”

“Alright, coming right up!” she smiles at them both before she turned to leave.

The  lemonade is like a haven on her dry tongue. It’s sweet and hits the spot, chilling her hot skin that definitely wasn’t from the coldness of the room.

“What is that?” Allura eyes Lotor's drink, enamored by the electric blue of the icy liquid. Within it is various fruits floating around as he stirs it with his straw.

“A g'sta. It's a sweet alcoholic beverage” he doesn't hesitate to push it towards her, holding the straw as he leans forward.

“Would you like a sip”

“Um.”

“You might find that you like it” he purrs, or what sounds like a purr, or maybe it's just her imagination at play here.

“Well-” her eyes flicker from him to his drink in trepidation “just a tiny sip wouldn't hurt, would it” she reassures herself out loud, as she places her elbows on the table. Allura hesitantly moved, her lips wrapping around the thin straw, as she sipped, like its color it was like an electric shock to her taste buds, sending vibrations down her spine. The sweetness of it puckered her lips, along with its coldness chattering her teeth.

She pulls away, licking her lips.

“How does it taste?”

“Like electricity, if it had a taste” he chuckles, before pulling back his glass, and sips from the straw that she just had her mouth on. If electricity was on her tongue, it was running through her veins. Her face reddening, as he continued to drink without a qualm.

It became quiet again, neither was it uncomfortable, nor was awkward, it was just simple silence, as they both ended up watching the sunset drive behind the ocean's horizon, bloomed obsidian and cobalt with a dash of shimmering violets.

Ma'o had came thirty minutes later with their plates steaming hot. She dug in immediately, the taste blossomed on her tongue, she hummed in delight.

The clicks of silverware, the jangle of ice. Soon, enough the time passed with half-eaten plates and empty cups.

“Your right”

 

Lotor's teeth click against the silver of his fork dark amethyst rose to meet sapphire.

 

“I find myself lost, what are you admitting defeat for, Princess?”

 

“Your right-about my prejudices towards the galra. I thought that I had worked past them, apparently not, it seems. I apologize for earlier. It's just when I look at you, strangely enough” she played with her earring “ you remind me of Altea” her hand drops back into her lap “I just miss my home. Though, I do not want it be at the expense of your comfort” she spoke quietly her words soft and uncertain. Never in her life would she ever think she would apologize to Prince Lotor of all people. But, She was in the wrong, her anger misdirected at the wrong people. In fact, they may be suffering more, living under a tyrant king who regarded them with little care.

 

She thought of the Witch Haggar, she was Altean and  was responsible for many evils, serving as Zarkon’s right hand, and responsible for Shiro’s suffering. The alt-teans were pretty much the inverse of their reality with her ruling with a iron fist instead of Zarkon.

 

Keith’s mother had sacrifice any chance for happiness for the sole purpose of keeping her father’s lions safe from Zarkon’s grasp.

 

Kolivan, Ulaz, Thace and the rest of the Mamora have also done their share of suffering, and at the hands of their own people.

 

Alfor and Zarkon were friends once. Good friends.

Zarkon was once a man before be he became a monster.

Lotor doesn't speak at first, he stares at her with a expression that is hard to discern, she expects him to scoff at her, but,  much like the paradox that he is, he laughs. Her head snatches up at the sound. But, the laugh is not bitter, or mocking or sarcastic. It's a full blown hearty laugh, the motion causes his robe to fall open completely, giving her a front row seat to his chiseled chest, and abdomen. Her eyes cartoonishly grew wide, as her eyes trail, admiring, she felt both sheepish at the audacity of her attraction and scandalized for she had never seen the bare chest of a man up this close. It was childish or perhaps her being too girlish. Or perhaps it was simply propriety. She felt her thoughts came to remind her those questionable earth novels that Pidge had let her borrow. This moment-is all too real to be real.

 

Her lips tremble, and parts.

 

The tragically handsome prince of an enemy country and the naive yet curious princess of another. Enraptured by each other and forbidden love, and tainted by lust they engaged in steamy liaisons despite, the wrongness of the situation.

 

Hot, hot passion and  Allura is feeling very hot, hot. Her sundress feeling too tight and too revealing of all sudden. Not that it was obscene, just that it was strapless and only came to the end of her tigh. Lotor, in all their meetings has always seen her in amour, her flight suit or on rare occasions her traditional dress. Well, it could be said that she hadn't seen Lotor's sculpted body up until now.

 

His laughing soon came to a simmer, his chest heaving and rumbling. He covered his mouth.

 

“I fail to see what I did that seems so funny to you” she picks at her salad, finding herself annoyed and embarrassed.

 

“You are an enigma, Allura of Altea.” she wrinkles her nose, after a lingering silence.

 

“Enigma. How so?”

 

“Most Galra would rather be sent to the rift then apologize to an enemy”

 

“One should apologize, enemy or not, if one is in the wrong, should they not” she offers sagely. He laughs again.

 

“Most Galra wouldn't agree with that sentiment”

 

“What about you?”

 

He sighs through his nose “I suppose ideally, maybe-apologies aren't something I'm familiar with-” his lips pull close.

 

“You've never apologized or you've never been apologized to”

 

Your dinner's getting cold” he evades quickly.

 

“It's a salad, its supposed to be”

 

Lotor hums,he twirls his spoon in sea of his soup for a moment of contemplation, his eyes soaring over the ocean’s roaring waves.

 

Allura realized she probably isn't going to get an answer.

 

It's gotten quieter, she looks around, it's not as bustling as it once was, fewer people were lingering around. The lights seem brighter now with the sun completely set. The glow seems warmer, far more intimate, the light casts shadows over Lotor's face, it makes him look far more distant, and mysterious as he appears to be. She had long finished off her salad, only picking at what's left over. The bill was placed the moment Lotor had completely devoured his meal. Not a trace left, a clean pristine bowl.

 

“It's late, Princess”

 

“Tell me about the Galra” she insists.

 

He quirks an elegant brow “Why?”

 

“Because” the sea roars in her ear, as if it were hurling accusations at her “I'm ignorant. I only know of your people through the worst sort of ways, all my life I had seem you, them as the epitome of every evil and-” her voice tilts in tone

 

“And-”

 

“And, it is now that I have learned that is not the case. They are people. People that are also victims of Zarkon's self-interested war. I want to learn, I want to move past the prejudices in my heart. I want to-I need to be better. This narrow minded thinking it's-it's not right, it is not the Altean way. Perhaps, if I can learn more about your costumes, culture, way of life I can finally find-find”

 

“Understanding. Closure. Insight. Or is it something personal.

 

“I-” she hesitates “I don't know, maybe all the above, I'm not entirely certain-”  

 

A loud chime hurls, Lotor peers down, his lackadaisical luster melts away with a stark paleness creeping up to his face in a brief instance. It was clear to Allura that what she saw was pure, unadulterated fear etched into his smooth features. It made her breath freeze, still in her chest cavity, she had never seen such fear mar the Prince's face. Shock, perhaps,  but never fear. He always so controlled to the point of eeriness that Allura wondered at one point whether or not he was machine, with wires and circuits.

 

“Lotor.” it was one word, a name, but it had instilled newfound fear beating in her heart.

She knew that voice well, a voice that creep in every shadow of her nightmares.

 

“Father.” Lotor answers curtly. She watches in rapt horror as his throat bobs.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“Work.”

 

“Judging by that ridiculous outfit you're wearing. I doubt it”

 

“What's it to you what I do. I’ve done what you've wanted, and more.”

 

“Indeed you have.”

 

“Then what is it that you need to bother me so”

 

“Where are you?”

 

“What does it matter to you”

 

“Home. You are to return to the capital within two weeks time. It is non-negotiable, disobey and- well you know by now the consequences for ill-behavior. Am I understood, boy”

 

Lotor shudders “You are understood father. Until then”

 

The communication blinks to a stop, the screen gone, and what's left of Zarkon is the sour atmosphere. She watches Lotor swallow again, beads of sweat rolling down his brow, like water droplets.

 

Allura feels her dress stick to her skin. She too, along with him are sweating buckets, their stomachs rolling, wishing they hadn't eaten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you guys think, is this boring, I'm not sure, I was going for more a atmospheric, introspective setting/thing.

**Author's Note:**

> So, what do you guys think!?  
> Comments and reviews welcomed!


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